Like Bottle Rockets
by righteouscourage
Summary: In her dreams they are happy, spending time with each other on the beach, making sand castles, and bottle rockets with their names on them. Mr. and Mrs. Castle. And they'd fly off together. In her dreams are the only times when she can look at him and be in love, where she can look at him without black tears falling from her eyes. Where she can look at him and believe.


**Tense change done purposely.**

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Once we were like bottle rockets, she thinks; fun, unpredictable, their love was _uncontrollable_. But now what are they? Nothing but burnt out, withered away memories of a life that use to be.

What happened to never becoming boring, to always, for the time of their lives?

In their house it's nothing but shadows lurking around each corner, black clouds ready to rain their poison down into their souls. And she sleeps in the guest room.

Curled up in the thin blanket that rests there to keep herself warm.

How could she believe all the lies? How could she tell so many lies? Her emotions were all so bundled up, knotted tightly inside her chest, but there's something about this stormy night that has all her pretty feelings wanting to break free.

It hurts, God, it hurts her so much inside and she's cried too many tears. Spent too many nights up here with just her emotions keeping her warm, not the muscular arms of her husband. It should be his body she curls around, not her own.

She's losing her mind, and she doesn't even know if she believes in them anymore. They use to work so well together, like bottle rockets: free, strong, equal. But lately, they've been on the same page of different books. They can't even speak to one another without fighting.

And he has to know, he has to know how cold it is here without him. The air whirls around, steals the heat from her breath every time she exhales.

She's exhausted. Tired of crying, tired of hurting. The pain aches so much that it feels like her heart will burst out of her chest to cry tears of its own.

This mattress hurts her back, her hips, and it's not fair. It's not fair to either of them anymore. They both deserve more, but that doesn't seem like it's each other now.

In her dreams they are happy, spending time with each other on the beach, making sand castles, and bottle rockets with their names on them. Mr. and Mrs. Castle. And they'd fly off together. In her dreams are the only times when she can look at him and be in love, where she can look at him without black tears falling from her eyes. Where she can look at him and believe.

But out here, it isn't easy. They walk past each other like they're strangers living in the same house. Watching different tv's, eating different dinners, working different schedules. It's almost as if they haven't seen each other in months.

Who is her husband?

Where is her husband?

The man walking around this house is not him, he's a stranger who she doesn't recognize.

She jolts awake, skin slick with sweat, eyes blurred from tears. She kicks the blankets away and rubs her aching bones. 19 years. They've been married for 19 years. A prison sentence.

She won't sleep through the night unless she takes a pill. They're right here, on the table by the bed.

And suddenly, there's so much grief filling in her chest, flooding her with pain, and oh God, she can't breathe. He was her everything. Her always. What have they become?

She wants to take the pills,, go back to sleep so she can dream of a better life, where the four of them are happy, where conversation isn't stilted. She wants to go to sleep. She wants to remember what it felt like to be loved.

She could go downstairs, tiptoe in their bedroom, and try one last time. But she doesn't even know if she believes they can be fixed anymore, she doesn't even know if she wants to believe they can work through it. Too much pain has been caused now.

One last time. What's one last time?

Barefoot and sore, she makes her way to their bedroom, where the man she use to call her partner lays asleep.

She doesn't think her heart can take any more pain. It's like he is the hammer and she is the nail. She can no longer burrow deeper into herself, she's been hammered as far as she can go.

He's there, in bed facing away from her. She needs him to turn around, turn the hammer around and take her out of the shell she's balled up in.

He awakes instantly, but when he sees it's her, there's no light in his eyes, no love in his touch. "What is it?"

 _Do you still believe?_

She's been losing her mind over him, but he just sits there, nonresponsive. Why won't he say anything?

"Say something," she begs, her knees knocking.

Say something, say anything, anything like he loves her, that he wants to get out of this dark place.

"Open your eyes," she says. "And say something."

Slowly. She's been slowly letting him go, but now she feels like she has to give up. On him. On them.

"This is never going to go away, if I always have to guess what's on your mind."

Then the anger starts and of course she fights back. Arguing turns to yelling, yelling to screaming, and why did she bother? It feels like a dream, a nightmare. Is she even alive right now? It feels so surreal, dream-like, and her head starts pounding so hard her it feels like her ear drums are going to burst.

"You're still in your damn funeral clothes Kate!"

Lanie died. Car crash. That was only yesterday. It's her best black dress. She hasn't found a way to move on yet. She kept her holding on, provided her with strength to get through the rough patch of her marriage. And now all Kate has is her dreams.

Maybe it's just time to say goodbye. Because she doesn't believe in them anymore. She can't.

And so she storms out, ready to just pack her bags, and go. But her children are standing there, staring at her with tear filled eyes, and how can she leave them behind?

Olivia, born soon after their first anniversary is holding her little brother Jamie and they're scared out of their minds. She is too.

She misses their father. But they, probably miss both their parents.

Go to bed, she tells them. They'll talk later.

She goes back to the guest room, where the bed bruises her body, and the air steals her warmth, and takes the rest of the pills.

She wants to remember when they were happy, when they were like bottle rockets.

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 _Thanks for reading :)_


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